520

Give answer to this boy, and do it freely;
Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood.- -On, speak to
him.

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render

Of whom he had this ring.

Post. What's that to him?

Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say,

How came it your's?

[Aside.

lach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.,

Cym. How me?

530

Iach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that which

Torments me to conceal. By villany.

I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel,

Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may grieve thee,

As it doth me) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd

'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?

Cym. All that belongs to this.

lach. That paragon, thy daughter

For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits Quail to remember-Give me leave; I faint.

540

Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy

strength :

I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will, Than die ere I hear more: strive, man, and speak.

lach. Upon a time (unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour!) it was in Rome (accurs'd
The mansion where!) 'twas at a feast (O, 'would
Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least,
Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthumus
(What should I say? he was too good, to be
Where ill men were; and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones) sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak: for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man

Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving,
Fairness, which strikes the eye :-

Cym. I stand on fire:

Come to the matter.

lach. All too soon I shall,

550

560

Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Post

humus

(Most like a noble lord in love, and one

That had a royal lover), took his hint ;
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd (therein
He was as calm as virtue), he began

His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made,
And then a mind put in't, either our brags

Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description 570 Prov'd us unspeaking sots.

Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.

lach. Your daughter's chastity-there it begins.

He

He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams,

And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch !
Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him
Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain

In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
By her's and mine adultery: he, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident

580

Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design: Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate!..
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd,
That I return'd with similar proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad,.*
By wounding his belief in her renown

With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet-
(O, cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
I having ta'en the forfeit.
Methinks, I see him now-

Post. Ay, so thou do'st,.

Mij

Whereupon→→→→

590

600

[Coming forward.

Italian

Italian fiend!-Ah me, most credulous fool,

Egregious murderer, thief, any thing

That's due to all the villains past, in being,

To come!-0, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious: it is I

That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend,
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That kill'd thy daughter :-villain-like, I lie;
That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do't:—the temple
Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o' the street to bay me: every villain
Be call'd, Posthumus Leonatus; and

Be villany less than 'twas !-O Imogen!
My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen !·

Imo. Peace, my lord; hear, hear

610

620

Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful

page,

There lie thy part.

Pis. O, gentlemen, help

[Striking her, she falls.

Mine, and your mistress-O, my lord Posthumus!

You ne'er kill'd Imogen 'till now :-Help, help!

Mine honour'd lady!

Cym. Does the world go round?

Post. How come these staggers on me?

Pis. Wake, my mistress!

630

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me

To death with mortal joy.

Pis. How fares my mistress?

Imo. O, get thee from my sight;

Thou gav'st me poison: dangerous fellow, hence! Breathe not where princes are.

Cym. The tune of Imogen!

Pis. Lady, the gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if

That box I gave you was not thought by me

A precious thing; I had it from the queen.
Cym. New matter still?

Imo. It poison'd me.

Cor. O gods!

I left out one thing which the queen confess'd,
Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio
Have, said she, given his mistress that confection
Which I gave him for cordial, she is serv'd
As I would serve a rat.

Cym. What's this, Cornelius?

Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importun'd me
To temper poisons for her; still pretending
The satisfaction of her knowledge, only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease
The present power of life; but, in short time,
All offices of nature should again

Do their due functions.-Have you ta'en of it?
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.

Bel. My boys,

There was our error.

640

650

669